


kyoshi cried, power!

by taare



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Political Campaign AU, Rangshi Week 2020, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26541565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taare/pseuds/taare
Summary: Kyoshi Yokoya doesn’t remember how she got roped into running for Congress, but with the general election less than a week away there’s no backing out now. Fortunately, she’s got a crack campaign team as well as her best friend and Chief of Staff, Rangi Sei'naka, by her side. Unfortunately, she’s also in love with her.It's make or break. Will the crew be able to pull through this final stretch and actually pull of a win? Or will the stress of the campaign tarnish their relationships forever?Rangshi Week 2020 entry and Political Campaign AU! Slow burn, somehow. All the chapters will tie to the daily prompt but also form a cohesive story.
Relationships: Kyoshi/Rangi (Avatar)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 37





	1. it's not the wakin', it's the risin'

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory disclaimer: i've never been part of a campaign team and time frames have been obviously condensed for ~drama~, but hopefully it's plausible enough. 
> 
> title from hozier: nina cried power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly had no good ideas for this week, but tonight's news kind of cemented this concept in my head. 
> 
> it's 4am and i'm already a day late posting this and i haven't actually gone back and reread this so truly who knows how it flows. this is what you get for putting off your fanweek submissions until the week of. procrastination - don't do it kids
> 
> also didn’t mean for this to be a thesis on coming out, but. the monkey brain writes what it wants i guess
> 
> prompt: kisses (turns out this is... hard to do when you have no actual kissing between the main characters)

“Have you seen the news?” Kyoshi groaned. Hearing that phrase this early in the day never boded well for the rest of the day. With less than a week left before the general election, there was even less reason for optimism, the spectre of the dreaded “October surprise” looming large.

Yun Makapu, Communications Director for the Kyoshi for Congress team, hopped over the desk in between them to crouch next to Kyoshi. She wasn’t sure how she’d been roped into this whole mess, honestly. Yun had nominated her as part of a grassroots political effort to recruit more diverse candidates for Congress. Kyoshi had acquiesced to make her oldest friend happy, figuring she’d flare out in the primaries, running against a ten-term incumbent for the seat. 

Well. One astonishing primary-upset later, Kyoshi found herself the party nominee for a very adult job as a Congressional Representative. It was a far cry from her former bartending day job -- she’d only been able to finance the campaign due to the fundraising prowess of her co-chairs Kirima and Lao Ge. 

Yun tapped her shoulder. “Take a look at this,” he said, handing her his phone and waiting for her to hit play on the video he’d queued up. 

The footage was grainy, blurring in the telltale way of scenes filmed by a cell phone perched in an unsteady hand. It opened to a darkened room -- a party, perhaps? -- filled with what seemed to be college students. About three-quarters of the students were dancing closely together, red solo cups in hand, the thumping bass overwhelming any other noises discernable in the soundtrack. 

“Why are you showing this to me?” Kyoshi asked, not bothering to pause the video. 

“Keep watching,” Yun said. Kyoshi returned her gaze to the screen. The camera had now picked up on its subjects of interest, zooming in at the expense of the already atrocious quality. 

Kyoshi sensed it suddenly, that sinking feeling in her stomach that she’d come to recognize as a sign of something terrible about to happen. The hand holding the camera stilled, coming to rest on what was clearly two young women wrapped in a tight embrace. The camera angle changed slightly, zooming in further on the women’s faces. They were clearly kissing, but a well-positioned hand was obscuring their identities. 

The hand dropped. 

“Shit.”

* * *

“So it’s true,” Yun said at last, breaking the silence. “What they’re saying.”

“What are they saying?” Kyoshi responded, too embarrassed and stunned to say much more. Where had they gotten this video? 

Yun was wearing a thankfully neutral expression. “What do you think?”

Kyoshi took a beat to consider her words before responding. After months on the campaign trail, she was intimately familiar with that fact that just one wrong step --  _ one  _ misplaced phrase -- could end her campaign. 

But this was Yun. Yun, who’d been in her life for longer than he hadn’t. Whom she’d trusted through her immensely awkward middle school years. Her high-school ex-boyfriend who’d improbably remained a close confidante after their inevitable but amicable break-up. 

She tried again. “Are they saying that it’s me?” She paused, weighing her next words on her tongue. There was no going back. “Because they’d be right,” she breathed. 

Yun looked almost offensively unsurprised. “I know  _ that _ , Kyoshi. I’m not surprised that you were kissing a girl; I  _ do  _ have eyes. The media is calling you a lesbian.”

“They -- what?” She glossed past Yun’s first point (there would be time to deconstruct that later) to stubbornly refute the second. “Why is that always their default assumption?” She raged. “First off, it’s none of their business. Second, this video is a clear invasion of my privacy, but Jianzhu obviously doesn’t care about that. Third, I’m not even a lesbian!” 

Of course, it was at this moment that Rangi Sei'naka, who served triple duty as Kyoshi’s Chief of Staff, best friend, and undeniable star of her wildest, gayest dreams, chose to walk in the door. 

“I --” Rangi stared at the tableau in front of her: Kyoshi stuffed into an office chair much too small for her sturdy frame, holding Yun’s phone while he crouched on the floor next to her, both wearing identical hangdog expressions. “I don’t think I want to know,” she muttered decidedly, taking a seat next to Kyoshi’s desk and setting her backpack on the ground. 

“It’s -- it’s not what you think,” Kyoshi sputtered. She  _ really  _ wished Rangi had gotten delayed in traffic that morning. “It’s just -- here,” she said, passing her the phone. 

Kyoshi watched as Rangi took in the footage, her face an inscrutable mask to the end. She paused it as soon as it became clear why she’d been shown the video in the first place. 

“What is this?” Rangi demanded. 

“It was stupid,” Kyoshi protested. “A stupid mistake. I was at a party in college -- I  _ wasn’t even drinking _ , for heaven’s sake -- and got carried away. There was this pretty girl, Aoma, from my geology class I had a crush on and it was dark and she made a move and I --,” Rangi held out her hand to stop her. 

“I don’t need to understand  _ why you kissed her _ , Kyoshi. I’m somewhat familiar with the appeal of kissing women,” she snarked. 

“She turned out to be a total jerk, anyway,” Kyoshi felt the need to interject. “It wasn’t anything serious, we just made out once at a party --,” Rangi stopped her again. 

“Once more, I don’t need to hear the sordid details of you sticking your tongue down this girl’s throat, even if I was forced to watch it on screen.” Kyoshi shifted uncomfortably. If Rangi was this uncomfortable with the idea of seeing Kyoshi kiss someone, what chance did she ever have of Rangi wanting to kiss  _ her?  _

“We need a game plan,” said Yun, straightening up off the floor. Kyoshi had honestly forgotten he was there. “The media is going to come to us for statements. We need to have answers. Kyoshi, how honest do you feel like being?” 

This is why Yun was the best in the business. A college debate champion and dual English and History major, Yun had graduated to lucrative job offers from advertising agencies and specialized marketing consultancies. He’d turned them all down to cut his teeth at political lobbying, unmistakably the dark side of the current political system, but Yun hadn’t seemed to care. After all, the skills he’d gained were unparalleled, and he was using them to help elect someone like Kyoshi to Congress, so what did it matter? 

Yun had an uncanny knack of jumping right to the heart of a question, bluntly identifying the issue at hand and stating it plainly for all to see. He then meticulously examined the subject from all sides before workshopping the optimal way to frame the story. Kyoshi was convinced that Yun could persuade a jury to let a confessed criminal walk free, and was almost glad she’d harnessed his talent before he could use it on something, well, more  _ destructive.  _

“Earth to Kyoshi,” Rangi snapped. “What do you want to say?”

“The truth,” she admitted. “Aoma might have been a passing crush, but I…,” Kyoshi was uncharacteristically hesitant in the wake of an outright affirmation. “I like girls. A lot. More than I probably should,” she finished lamely. 

“I don’t know about that last part,” Rangi said snidely. “But we need to make this easy for the media to understand. Are you coming out?”

“Rangi’s right, Kyoshi,” Yun agreed. Rangi nodded at him gratefully. “The news cycle is going to blow this out of proportion if we don’t say something soon. Right now, only the tabloids and unsourced political blogs have picked it up, but it’s only a matter of time. Once it hits social media full steam, we’re not going to be able to control the message anymore.” 

Kyoshi wasn’t sure why this was so hard. She’d begun questioning herself several years ago but had tamped it down -- growing up in a conservative small town had done more of a number on her than she was willing to admit. She’d only fully worked it out a few months ago, but it had been too raw to disclose -- even to her closest friends. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t be supportive, she’d recognized. Yun wasn’t a bigot, even though they’d grown up in the same place. Rangi -- well, thinking about Rangi’s sexuality and the fact that she couldn’t have her anyway, not without putting years at friendship at risk… Kyoshi tried not to think about Rangi’s love life at all. 

But ruminating extensively on her preferences and exchanging sloppy kisses at a party with a girl were one thing. Coming out to the national media was quite another. 

She stared at Rangi as if meditating on her face would suddenly provide all the answers. Brave, beautiful Rangi. The girl who’d come to Kyoshi’s dorm room, tear-streaked cheeks and all, and confessed that she was gay. The girl whose hand she’d held as Rangi called her mother, breaking down when Hei-Ran’s easy promises of love and acceptance echoed out of tinny speakers. The woman who stood before her today, fierce and strong and emanating warmth, and sometimes all Kyoshi longed for was the ability to capture that glow and keep it for herself, tuck it away alongside her other innermost desires to fill that place waiting empty and wanting. 

“Whatever you choose, we’ll support you,” Rangi said, quieter. She smiled, the hard angles of her face softening. “I know you’ll make the right choice.” 

And at that moment, Kyoshi knew. What this would mean to Rangi. What it would mean to her district, even the nation as a whole. The boundaries she’d be breaking, the barriers she’d be shattering for those who came after. All the children who would be able to see themselves in her and choose to follow their dreams. 

In the face of that realization, how could she make any other choice? Rangi deserved the world, and if doing this made life a tiny bit better for her, Kyoshi was determined to make it happen. 

“I’m going to do it,” she resolved. “Yun, draft up a statement.” Rangi seemed as close to beaming as her lips would allow. She laced her fingers with Kyoshi’s, moving close enough for Kyoshi to be able to smell her perfume. Lilies. 

Rangi laid her head on Kyoshi’s chest. “I’m proud of you,” she murmured. She glanced upwards to look Kyoshi in the eyes, serious for a moment. “I know how hard this is. I’m proud of you for telling me -- even though I wish you’d told me sooner. I’m proud of you for being audacious enough to tell the world. I’m incredibly angry that they forced your hand, but Kyoshi?” Kyoshi felt her heartbeat pick up speed as Rangi placed her other palm on Kyoshi’s chest. Rangi’s voice was steel. 

“We are going to destroy Jianzhu for what he’s done. I hope he's ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more tomorrow! probably. ha.


	2. it is the groundin' of a foot uncompromisin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one day late, as per usual. as recompense, have a chapter that’s twice as long.
> 
> prompt: soft / domestic

“Stop that,” Rangi said sharply. 

“I’m _cold,_ ” Kyoshi whined, reaching for the controls again. 

“Stop it!” Rangi slapped Kyoshi’s hand away. “Driver controls the thermostat!” 

“That’s not fair! You always drive and you always run hot!” 

“I already know I’m hot,” Rangi smirked. Kyoshi groaned. “More of an incentive for you to learn how to drive better, then, huh?”

“That was _one time._ ” Rangi had indeed lent her her car just once, so Kyoshi could visit the only person she’d ever considered a parent, Kelsang Dorje. 

Kelsang had taken her in as a foster child back when Kyoshi had just been a young girl, abandoned to the system when her biological parents had been apprehended for smuggling, fraud, and assorted illegal activities. She’d been considered too old for immediate adoption and had shuffled from group home to group home before finding a placement with Mr. Dorje. 

The kindly, benevolent man and Kyoshi found they shared much in common, from the surprising — a passion for martial arts — to the mundane — a proclivity for the order and cleanliness in their surroundings. Kelsang formalized the adoption when Kyoshi’s biological parents’ claim lapsed with their passing. Kyoshi had never once visited them in prison. 

She’d found it difficult to leave him and her home when it came time to explore the idea of going to university. Kyoshi had never really thought of herself as the academic type — schoolwork came easily to her, but she’d always assumed she’d never be able to afford college. Jesa and Hark hadn’t graduated high school, and Kyoshi’s education had never been a focal point for them as they shunted her from city to city to accommodate their growing crime syndicate. 

Still, when the time came, Kelsang had encouraged her to spread her wings and explore life outside of their small town, despite the consequences for himself. For as much as Kyoshi hated acknowledging it, Kelsang was getting older and would be living alone over an hour’s drive away from Kyoshi. She’d written up the application but left it unsubmitted, index finger hovering over the "send" button before closing out of the tab entirely.

Kyoshi had forgotten about the whole affair and was poring over the course catalog for her local community college when the acceptance letter arrived in the mail. Kelsang had sent in the application for her. 

Since then, she’d made it a point to drop in as often as she could manage, even though the bus took two hours one way by virtue of the circuitous route and the frequency of the stops. Rangi had offered to drive her, but Rangi didn’t have a car on campus and Kyoshi hated the thought of imposing on Hei-Ran by borrowing her trusty sedan. 

That car had become Rangi’s graduation present, which Kyoshi had promptly wrapped around a tree on her way home from Kelsang’s. She was fine. The sedan was not. 

Rangi had never let her live it down. 

Insurance had covered the purchase of Rangi’s new vehicle, a spectacularly intense fire-engine red SUV. Hei-Ran had tried to persuade her daughter to purchase something slightly more… _sensible_ , but Rangi held firm. Kyoshi was secretly glad she had — her car was perhaps Rangi’s only belonging that betrayed the impetuous, often short-tempered self that lurked deep underneath her stoic exterior. 

But since the accident, Rangi had insisted on driving Kyoshi on her trips back home. Kyoshi’s initial protests dissolved when bus routes were cut, bumping up the journey to three hours one way. 

Rangi and Kelsang, naturally, had gotten along like a house on fire. Kyoshi saw a side to her father she rarely saw around anyone else, and the ease of the interaction gave way to a long-standing friendship between the two families. Hei-Ran would also pop in occasionally, even when the girls weren’t home, just to catch up with Kelsang. Family game nights became a regular occurrence. Yun would join in occasionally when he was in town, and Kyoshi was never happier than in those moments around the dining room table with the people she cared most about in the world. 

Rangi’s voice brought Kyoshi back to the present. “Sure, Kyoshi, it was _one time,_ ” Rangi echoed. “But that one time happened to involve totaling my car. Forgive me if I don’t let you drive until we’re fifty.” The implication that Rangi would still be in her life even decades later, close enough for carpooling to be a quotidian affair, filled Kyoshi with a permeating warmth. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you love me anyway,” Kyoshi said drily, craning her head to look out the window and entirely missing Rangi’s ensuing blush. 

“Yeah, I do,” Rangi replied, voice strained. She gripped the steering wheel tighter. 

“I think we’re here,” Kyoshi announced. Before them stood a public housing complex. _Welcome to Cove Village Apartments_ , the sign proclaimed. _Luxury Living at an Affordable Price._

The tagline stood in direct conflict with the derelict buildings in front of them — discolored vinyl siding separating from the walls, broken windows patched with duct tape, front doors with peeling paint decorated with bright-yellow _Past Due_ notices.

Rangi reached for Kyoshi’s hand and gave it a slight squeeze. “Let’s go.” 

Equipped with their clipboards and the addresses of registered voters, they trudged their way up a hill to their first stop. A forest green tricycle was out front, tassels on the lightly-rusted handlebards. Kyoshi rang the bell. 

A man opened the door, regarding the duo skeptically. “I’m not interested in buying anything.” 

“We’re not trying to sell you something,” Kyoshi said quickly. “Well, aside from myself.” The man raised an eyebrow. Rangi buried her face in her palm.

“Not — ignore that. I’m Kyoshi Yokoya, and I’m running for Congress in this district. The general election is next Tuesday, and I’d love to have your vote.” The man’s eyebrows reached a frankly alarming peak as Kyoshi continued her pitch, regaling him with the instructions on how to reach his polling place using a car or public transit. 

“Ma’am,” he cut in. “I get it. You seem like you have the right idea. I was going to vote for you, but —,” and Kyoshi waited for the hammer to fall. “But the buses are down next week. They don’t have enough drivers to staff all the routes, so they’re temporarily shutting some of them down.” 

Even Rangi looked stunned at this news. “When did they announce it?” she asked. 

“They haven’t yet. I work for the transit authority — that’s how I know.”

Kyoshi glanced at Rangi. “Do they have the jurisdiction to do that? On such short notice?” she asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Rangi said. “But I don’t think it matters. Even if we try to challenge them, the matter wouldn't get resolved until after the election. Not in time for the buses to be back on the road in time for getting people to the polls. 

“This is ridiculous. I can’t believe they can get away with this.” She looked back to the man in the doorway. “Can I get you money for a cab?” Kyoshi asked, reaching into her wallet. He looked stunned at the offer. 

Rangi’s hand slapped Kyoshi’s out of the way for the second time that day. “Kyoshi! You can’t offer voters money! That’s bribery!” she hissed. “I’m so sorry about this,” Rangi apologized, “Mr.…”

“You can call me Wong,” the man said, amused. 

“Wong. I promised, she’s not usually like this. She really does have good ideas, and we can promise that if Kyoshi were in office, we would have an actually functional transit system.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to see that folks actually care.” Wong frowned. “We don’t usually get candidates who come down here to talk to us. They traipse through all the nicer neighborhoods to collect donations and expect us to vote for them anyway, just because we don’t have any better options. No one really cares what _we_ think.” 

Kyoshi grinned. “Well, Wong, I certainly do. And I’d love to have you learn more about what I stand for — I’ll be participating in a debate tomorrow, down at the community center. It would be great to see you there if you can make it.” 

“I think I could do that; I’m not on shift tomorrow.”

“That sounds great! And even if you can’t, it’ll be televised live. Bring a friend!” She smiled genuinely. “It was great to meet you, Wong. We’ll be working on this bus situation and we’ll let you know if we figure something out.” It was times like these — interacting with constituents one-on-one — that reminded Kyoshi why she enjoyed canvassing so much. She loved hearing people’s stories, learning about where they lived and what they loved and what could make their lives better. Rangi called her the voter-whisperer, and there was no stopping Kyoshi when she was on her game. 

The remainder of the cavassing went smoothly, with the majority of residents having already decided whom they were voting for. After crossing the final address of the list, Rangi hopped back in the driver’s seat and turned to Kyoshi. “Ready for debate prep?” 

“Yeah,” Kyoshi replied, slightly winded. “We should get a move on.” The pair were already late to meet Yun and the team back at headquarters. 

But when they finally rolled to a stop, it wasn’t in the parking lot next to their office. “Where are we going?” 

“You haven’t eaten since dinner yesterday!” Rangi yelled. “I can _tell_ you skipped breakfast, Kyoshi. You’re never this tired after canvassing otherwise.” 

Kyoshi shrugged guiltily. “I slept in?” 

“You never sleep in. You were working, admit it.” And yes, maybe Kyoshi had been working on some early-morning tweaks to her debate responses, but Rangi didn’t need to know that. “I knew it,” Rangi said smugly. 

The hole-in-the-wall Rangi had chosen as their lunch spot served a spicy mushroom stir-fry as their specialty. “I think I know why you chose this spot,” Kyoshi teased.

“I like mushrooms. Sue me.” 

“Are you kidding? I’m not taking that risk. If you could only keep me or mushrooms in your life, I know which you’d pick.” 

Rangi laughed as she went up to collect their order. “Wait a second,” the boy behind the counter said. “I know you,” he proclaimed, pointing alternatively at Kyoshi and Rangi. “You’re that woman running for Congress.” 

Kyohsi couldn’t tell who was more surprised — the boy for correctly deducing who they were, or Rangi, who had spent much of the campaign out of the public eye and was yet unused to being recognized. 

“That’s — that’s right,” Rangi sputtered. 

“I only know because my aunt is a big fan of yours.” 

Now this was news to Kyoshi. She had fans?

“Auntie!” The boy yelled. “Ms. Yokoya is here!” There was a rustling sound paired with the distinctive noise of cookware hitting the floor before a short middle-aged woman appeared in front of them. 

“Kyoshi!” she exclaimed, reaching forward to embrace the taller woman. 

“Auntie Mui?” Kyoshi asked, astonished. “Is it really you? I never thought I’d see you again!” 

“What’s going on here?” Rangi demanded, tapping her foot impatiently. “Kyoshi, who is this?” 

Kyoshi beamed. “Auntie Mui, meet Rangi, my fr— my Chief of Staff. Rangi, meet Auntie Mui, my eight-year-old self’s favorite person.” 

“You were always hungry, poor thing. I’m so glad to see you’ve grown so big and strong.” 

“That’s really not much of an explanation, Kyoshi,” Rangi interjected. 

“Auntie Mui was a cook at one of my group homes. She always snuck me extra treats we weren’t allowed to have, and she baked the _best_ red bean buns.”

“That’s still true!” the boy — Lek, they learned — piped in excitedly.

“Speaking of, there’s a batch of those coming out of the steamer right now. Can you stay to eat with us?” 

“Unfortunately, we have to head out now,” Kyoshi apologized. “But I’d love to get dinner together!” 

“After Tuesday,” Rangi reminded her. “For now, you need to focus on the debate and _actually eating on time._ ”

“Your girlfriend is right,” Auntie Mui laughed. “Food is fuel! You need to stay nourished if you’re going to go up against Jianzhu.”

“Thank you,” Rangi said, vindicated. 

“Not my girlfriend,” Kyoshi corrected simultaneously, though somewhat wistfully. 

“Sure,” Auntie Mui said, unfazed. She handed them two buns, still warm. “Here, you can get started while you wait.” 

Lek rang up the order and Rangi paid while Kyoshi chewed thoughtfully. A strand of Rangi’s hair had come slightly undone, and Kyoshi longed to reach over and tuck it back into place. Rangi was always so particular about her hair and who touched it — Kyoshi had only been afforded that privilege a handful of times. She wondered what it would feel like to do so now, with Auntie Mui and Lek watching. To show off that Rangi was _hers._

Rangi’s ringtone reverberated loudly through the small store, disrupting her reverie. “Oh shoot, it’s Yun. Kyoshi, we’ve got to go.” 

Four fully-laden take-out bags and one promise to attend tomorrow's debate later, the two returned to the office with enough food and desserts to feed the team until election day. 

“Red bean buns!” Yun exclaimed delightedly. “My favorite!” 

“Leave some for the rest of us,” Kirima drawled. Lao Ge had already seated himself in a corner, three buns in hand. “Hey! How did you grab all of those already?” 

“A lifetime of training,” he grinned. 

“What, are you an assassin or something? Sneaking around without anyone noticing?” 

“Something like that,” he smirked. 

Lunch secured, Kyoshi’s core team sat down in front of the makeshift stage, two secondhand podiums from the local high school facing them. Yun, a nationally-ranked debater, was the natural choice for the makeshift Jianzhu. He had also interned for the Congressman in college, providing him an exceptional understanding of the inner workings of the man’s brain.

“Ready to go down, Kyoshi?” Yun smiled good-naturedly.

“You wish,” she retorted, shuffling her papers into order. This was the final debate of the season. She’d partaken in plenty previously. It would be a cinch. 

The questions came thick and fast, with little time to provide comprehensive answers before Yun pivoted to the next question. This was Jianzhu’s style — he ducked and wove his answers so nimbly his opponents often found themselves floundering and wrapped tightly by their own responses in a web of his making. The hours passed swiftly with the remainder of the team moderating. 

“Do you have any closing statements?” Lao Ge asked, finally. “Congressman Ganjin, you’re up first.” 

“Thank you, moderator,” Yun began. “As I’m sure everyone here can agree, our town deserves the best. Deserves to _be_ the best. The best place to work, to start a business, to raise a family. As your current Congressman, I’m very familiar with what it takes to make that happen — the best person for the job, as it were. And I also know that in some aspects, our town deserves more. More school choice. More policing. More from our candidates, even. At least more from Ms. Yokoya over here, who still maintains connections with her parents’ dangerous gang. How can she represent Yokoya, when she pals around with the very people who make our city unsafe?”

This was also Jianzhu’s style. Finish big. The room was pin-drop silent. 

Rangi broke it. “Yun, what the hell?” 

Kyoshi leaned against the unsteady podium, temple throbbing and knees threatening to buckle. Yun… Kyoshi wasn’t sure how he had found out about her parents, much less the fact that their syndicate continued to operate. Obviously, Kyoshi had no contact with them, but that didn’t preclude her from living in fear that they would one day come looking for her: Jesa and Hark’s only child, looking for her to carry on their tainted, immoral legacy. 

Rangi rushed to her side. “Kyoshi, are you okay? Yun, what the hell?” She repeated angrily. Yun shrugged sheepishly.

“I… I can’t,” Kyoshi faltered. She tried to say more, but her brain insisted on playing back Yun’s accusation, over and over until all she could hear was the sound of the sirens pulling up in her front yard when her parents finally apprehended. 

“Hey.” Rangi delicately placed a hand on her shoulder, and Kyoshi melted into it, attempting to draw through the connection a fraction of the stability she knew Rangi always possessed. “Stay with us. It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

Kyoshi’s breathing eased. 

“I’m sorry,” Yun said. “I just… I know what Jianzhu is like. His nickname in debates isn’t the _gravedigger_ for nothing. He sets up his traps perfectly and waits for just the right moment to spring it. There would be no better time than now, when the polls are this close, for him to lob this at you.”

“Yun’s right.” Lao Ge agreed. “You need to be able to handle all attacks, no matter how personal they are. Jianzhu is known for going low. He really thinks you can win. He’s on the defensive now, so he’ll be pulling out all the stops.” 

“Are you seriously taking his side on this? Kyoshi’s family is _off limits._ We’re done here,” Rangi declared. 

“I’m sorry, Rangi, we needed to surprise her for it to work,” Kirima said. “Kyoshi, you need to work on that answer, and how you reply to any other challenges like it.” 

“Kyoshi, let’s go,” Rangi reiterated. “It’s not worth it. You need to be in top form tomorrow.” 

“You’re right,” Kyoshi stated. “I need to be in top form tomorrow. Which is why I’m going to listen to Yun and Lao Ge and Kirima. I can’t have any weaknesses.” She turned to her friend. “Yun. Let’s give it another go.” 

* * *

Kyoshi was exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally… all she wanted to do was lay down in the fetal position and fall asleep. There was no way she was making it all the way home. Perhaps she could lay out her jacket under her desk and nap there? Would she fit? 

“Oy,” Rangi said. 

“Ouch!” Kyoshi turned, then looked at the floor for the offending item. Rangi had thrown a pen at her. 

“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re not sleeping here. Come on, I’m giving you a ride home.” 

“Too far,” Kyoshi mumbled. She looked longingly at the ground. “Floor cozy…”

“You’re an idiot,” Rangi said, in a tone that sounded dangerously close to fond. “You can stay at mine.”

Kyoshi looked up. It had been a while since they’d had a sleepover — Kyoshi’s work schedule didn’t usually allow for them, especially when she started working evenings and nights. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure. I’m closer and you seem like you’re about to pass out standing up, so let’s move.” 

Kyoshi was indeed fully asleep by the time Rangi pulled up outside her front door. 

“Kyoshi, up,” Rangi prodded. Kyoshi didn’t stir. “There’s no way I can carry you, so you’re either going to have to sleep in the car, or you’re going to wake up.”

“Up,” Kyoshi said groggily. 

“Yes. Upstairs. Sorry, no elevator.” 

Rangi held open the passenger side door as Kyoshi hopped out of her seat, almost tripping flat on her face as she mistimed her landing. For the second time that day, Rangi propped her up, inserting herself under her shoulder. Kyoshi could smell lilies again, tinged with the spices from their dinner of Auntie Mui’s leftovers. It was heady, a balm for her tired senses. 

“Shoes off, Bigfoot,” Rangi said as they entered her apartment. Kyoshi complied before dropping face-first into Rangi’s sofa. 

“Hey. You can’t sleep there. You’re too tall,” Rangi spoke gently. 

“Yes I can,” she replied stubbornly. To demonstrate, she curled herself into a ball, legs protruding uncomfortably from the edge.

“Don’t be silly. You’re sleeping in my room, on my bed.”

“Where will you sleep?” She saw Rangi stare at her incredulously. 

“ _Also_ in my bed. There’s only one bed, rocks-for-brains.” 

Kyoshi couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept next to Rangi — her friend ordinarily preferred having her own space. Knowing Rangi was going to be just inches away, soft and vulnerable as she almost never was during the day…well, it was enough to make Kyoshi’s head spin with more than just tiredness.

“Go ahead and get settled in, I’m just going to wash up for a minute.” Kyoshi heard the sound of the faucet turning on as she tucked herself into the incredibly cushy mattress. Rangi knew the importance of investing in a good night’s sleep better than anyone.

“Do you need anything?” Rangi inquired, emerging from the bathroom in a half-buttoned sleep shirt and long, baggy pants. Kyoshi could see the smooth glint of skin where the shirt lay loose and open, a tantalizing hint of her chest visible before it was rehidden beneath the offending fabric. 

“Huh?” Kyoshi realized Rangi had asked her something. 

“I said, do you need anything?” Rangi had taken her hair down, a style she rarely sported in her day-to-day, favoring a flattering yet simple updo instead. Her face was dewy, as though she had rinsed it clean and haphazardly wiped it dry. She was completely and utterly radiant. 

Kyoshi had missed the question again. “Um. No?” She was grateful that Rangi seemed satisfied enough with the answer to crawl into the spot adjoining hers. 

She turned towards Kyoshi, raising her hand to her cheek. “Are you okay? I know… I know today was a lot. With Wong and Auntie Mui and Yun pulling his little stunt.” 

This far into the dreamlike state between waking and sleeping that she now inhabited, Kyoshi couldn’t help but reply honestly. “I’m better now that you’re here.” Rangi’s palm was scorching her delightfully. Kyoshi couldn’t read her face in the darkness and felt, rather than saw, Rangi move.

Kyoshi startled at the feeling of Rangi’s lips on her forehead, where they lingered for a moment, chapped and warm, before shifting to her crown. She felt another kiss in her hair, smelled the jasmine-scented toothpaste Rangi had used, was acutely aware of every pinprick-small sensation flowing through her body right now. She screwed her eyes shut, willing herself to commit every breath to memory, just in case she never had this again. In case this was the last time she got to be this close to Rangi Sei’naka. 

“You deserve the world, Kyoshi,” Rangi murmured. “Don’t ever forget that.” Kyoshi sensed the embarrassing presence of tears in her eyes, wiping them away before Rangi could feel them on her skin. “Sleep well. You’re going to crush him in the debate tomorrow.” 

But with Rangi’s arms around her, heartbeat in her ear, Kyoshi doubted she would survive the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for your lovely comments - they mean the world and are super helpful in understanding what actually works! i’m writing this as we go, so trying to incorporate your thoughts. 
> 
> it is surprisingly hard to write a campaign au without hitting y’all over the head with a lot of political jibber-jabber (shocking no one but me, i know) but let me know if it's actually enjoyable and i’ll include more of it in the debate.


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